


Too Much

by aisydays



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, Autism, Canon Autistic Character, Gen, Sensory Overload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 14:15:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17962118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisydays/pseuds/aisydays
Summary: Sometimes the life of a knight-in-training can be overwhelming. Talfryn takes a break.





	Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Bad Things Happen Bingo! Unicorn (Jensee) requested 'Sensory Overload' for either Talfryn, Vespa or Arum, and I chose everyone's favourite not-knight. If you want to send in a prompt for my Bingo Challenge, the card is here (http://shutupeiffel.tumblr.com/post/183023833589/badthings#notes), you can send me an ask on Tumblr or a message on Discord at sharpsnooter#5962 :)

It was all Too Much. The capital letters were needed, Talfryn decided. They marked out the difference. He could deal with too much; too much was just Marc taking his teasing a bit too far, or too many jibes at his brother’s expense that seemed to slide off him and stick into Tal like arrows glancing off armour and piercing flesh. Too much could be dealt with with some time alone, preferably with a book about wildlife, or a long, firm hug from Marc, or getting to talk to Rilla about cool things he’d seen in the forest.

It was different when it was Too Much.

Too Much was a long, hard week of riding, through the cold and damp of the Citadel’s winter, stopping only for a few hours of sleep and to occasionally attempt a small fire. It was sleep deprivation, and stress, and fear because what if this time the monster was more they could handle, what if Marc ran out of his medicine again because this was taking so much longer than they had planned for. It was the rough fabric of his shirt chafing against his neck as they rode, seemingly growing tighter and tighter by the second like a noose. It was the constant irritation of noise at the back of his mind, chirpings and rustlings and saints knows what else, sounds that would usually be easy to ignore suddenly amplified in his mind.

Even Marc noticed his laboured breathing, more ragged than it should be. It was clear in the tense lines of Talfryn’s body, the white of his knuckles clutching the reins of his horse, the tears welling in his eyes. Every part of him was screaming that it was all Too Much, he couldn’t cope, he didn’t know what to do, he…

It took a couple of seconds for Tal to realise his horse had come to a stop. Blinking, he looked up to see Marc and Dampierre blocking his path, both of them sporting concerned expressions - although Tal might have just been imagining it on Dampierre.

“Tal…” Marc said, his voice soft, completely void of any teasing. At any other moment, Talfryn would have appreciated it, but right then all that he could think of was how loud the birds were, their noises drilling into his mind almost painfully. 

His brother pulled his horse closer, carefully hovering close without actually touching. “Do you need a break?” he asked, the familiar words a scrap of comfort. There was an order to this, a set routine Marc could run through to see if Tal needed help. He nodded, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the bright sunlight streaming through the forest canopy. The noises of the jungle were still unbearable, his clothing still too much of an intense presence against his skin, but even this slight action was helping. 

Beside him, Marc continued speaking. The words were comfortingly familiar, like he was an actor reciting lines.

“We’re going to stop for a while, and dismount. Do you need a hand down?” A no this time. Talfryn had to consciously relax almost every muscle in his body in order to pry himself off his horse. He sank to the ground, wrapping his body into a tight ball, rocking slightly backwards and forwards.

Even with his eyes pressed as tightly closed as he could, Tal could sense his brother’s presence beside him. Marc must have dragged himself over after he’d dismounted - it was a testament to how awful he was feeling that Tal didn’t notice any of Marc’s grunts of pain, or the thud as he hit the ground. He was too wrapped up in the crashing flood of Everything - touch, sight, hearing, even smell, his senses screaming under the weight of everything around him. His body was tense, on the verge of snapping and lashing out, so desperate for any kind of relief that it would do anything, anything just to make it Stop. Talfryn shook with it, almost vibrating where he sat.

For a second the two sat in silence; Talfryn out of necessity, Marc just to allow his brother breathing room. In a more lucid moment, Tal would have appreciated it- even though Marc could never understand what it felt like when everything got Too Much, he knew what Tal needed. Space, routine, reassurance. Each time this happened, there would always be this period of quiet, a short rest to allow Talfryn to get even the vaguest grasp on his situation, before Marc would speak up.

“Are you okay to be touched?” Tal had to shake his head yet again. Physical contact was out of the question. It was bad enough being so painfully aware of where his own body was touching, skin crawling where it was pressed against skin. It was a constant battle between wanting to curl up smaller, to feel like pressure against him, versus the way his brain was screaming at him that he was being Touched, to separate himself and spread out. Marc paused for another moment before moving onto the next question. 

“You want the Blockers?”

A nod this time, and a rustle from Marc’s direction as he pulled himself over to the packs. Rilla had come up with the Blockers years ago - this pair weren’t the first but even they were slightly battered and worn. Two balls of soft fabric, stuffed with balled up scraps, connected by a band that fit snugly over both of his ears. With the Blockers on, everything was muffled, softer, the edge was taken off just a little. Too Much inching its way towards just plain too much. 

They sat a while. Talfryn with the heels of his palms pressed into his eyes and the Blockers resting over his ears, Marc a silent, calming presence by his side. Without the sounds of the swamp piercing his mind, or the sun streaming into his eyes, Tal was able to relax slightly. He didn’t feel like every part of his body was screaming for attention anymore. He could sit and think without twenty sensations all clamouring to be Noticed (which was, of course, much more important than just being noticed).

After some time had passed - Tal would be hard pressed to say exactly how much, it could have been anywhere between five minutes and five hours- he felt calm enough to move his hands away from his eyes. Night was starting to fall; the sunlight was dimming, and the noises of the swamp were beginning to soften as whatever had been out and about all day was retreating home. There were so few sounds that Tal could identify each and every one, and running through their names in his head was soothing, a continuous repetition of names and species and any other bits of trivia he could think of. His breathing evened out, the rise and fall of his chest another calming regularity. 

It wasn’t long before he was able to unfurl himself from the ball he was tucked in. His muscles were protesting as he moved, pins and needles shooting along every limb. Marc smiled dryly. 

“You keep sitting like that for so long, you’ll end up with worse legs than me” he said, catching the horrified look on Tal’s face and clarifying “Joking, Talfryn, just joking.”

Tal managed a weak smile at that, hauling himself up onto his feet and extending an arm out of his brother, easily pulling Marc up so he could grab hold of Dampierre’s saddle and, with minimal wincing, pull himself up to mount the horse. 

Although the light had faded somewhat, it was still clear enough that even Marc could track their path. It wasn’t even that far to the nearest town either, they’d be able to make it before sun down despite the… interruption to their schedule. The pair rode in silence - companionable silence, no longer tainted with fear or urgency - for a while before Marc inevitably had to speak.

“I’m sorry Tal. I… I’ve been pushing us hard, I know. We should have had more rests, I shouldn’t have let you get so wound up. But I promise you, once we slay this beast, once we prove we’ve got what it takes to be knights… It’ll all be easier. I swear, Tal.”

Hearing the conviction in Marc’s voice, the absolute faith in the future he’d planned out, it was easy for Talfryn to drown out the tiny voice of protest in the back of his head.


End file.
